


Dudley's Memories

by Paganaidd



Series: Memories and Dreams [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paganaidd/pseuds/Paganaidd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva needs help delivering another letter to #4 Privet Drive. At forty, Dudley is not at all what Harry expects. A long overdue conversation ensues. DH cannon compliant, but probably not the way you think. Prologue to "Snape's Memories".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Harry

"Master?" croaked Harry's elderly house-elf, as he appeared in the drawing room with his customary crack.

"Yes, Kreacher?" asked Harry, looking up from where he sat at the table, trying to help Lily with her maths.

"Master has a visitor. Would Master like me to bring her here?"

"Who is it?" asked Harry. The only people who ever showed up unannounced were working right now; this probably boded no good.

"It's Headmistress McGonagall, Master," replied Kreacher.

Harry winced, wondering what Al or James (or more likely both of them) had gotten up to now. Harry sometimes asked himself why he and Ginny had never considered adopting. There had to be something downright unnatural about the unholy mixing of troublemaking DNA that came from the Potters and the Weasleys. He couldn't think of another reason for Minerva to be here. Sometimes she visited during the summer or Christmas holidays, but it must be pretty dire for her to be here in the middle of the week, at four o'clock in the afternoon, in the middle of March.

"Send her up, Kreacher, and tell Ginny too, if you haven't already," Harry replied, sighing. He shut the book and told Lily, "We'll finish this later, all right?"

"OK, Dad," replied Lily brightly, clearly pleased to have to discontinue the tutoring session.

"If Miss Lily comes down to the kitchen," Kreacher said fondly, "Kreacher has just taken some scones out of the oven."

Lily squealed in delight and ran down the stairs in the headlong fashion that never failed to frighten Harry. As always, he sat on his urge to tell her to slow down. Ginny said she'd been just the same at Lily's age and wasn't any the worse for it.

“I’ll take Professor McGonagall up, Kreacher,” Ginny called to the elf.

"Hello, Minerva," Harry said politely as the elderly witch came in through the door, followed by Ginny.

"Good afternoon, Harry." Minerva smiled, but the lines around her mouth were tight, and the expression didn’t reach her eyes.

"Which one is it this time?" asked Ginny.

"Which one...?" asked Minerva, seeming confused for a second, "Oh. No, it's not either of the boys this time. Although it does seem that they've inherited your," she cleared her throat, looking mock sternly at Harry and Ginny "Sense of adventure."

"Oh. Good." said Harry relaxing, "Well, sit down. Would you like tea, or perhaps we can have Kreacher find something stronger?"

"Tea would be fine," said Minerva, as she sat. "I've come to ask you a favor."

Kreacher appeared with a tea tray, put it on the coffee table and disappeared again. Ginny poured the tea for the three of them,

"You see, I've just received the list of Muggle-borns for next year's first-year class," Minerva went on, as she took her tea from Ginny, "And, I was wondering, Harry, if you would accompany me to speak with a particular student's parents." she seemed uneasy asking him. Typically very forthright, she avoided his eyes as she spoke.

"Okay." Harry shrugged, a little nonplussed at the headmistress’s edginess. He knew someone from Hogwarts always went to a Muggle-born wizard's house to explain, and he was aware that these days, Minerva often requested the help of Hermione or another Muggle-born alumnus of Hogwarts to come with her. She'd never asked him before though, "No one else available?"

Minerva sighed and put her tea down, "I think, under the circumstances, it would be best if it were you, Harry." She pulled a letter out of a pocket of her robes and handed it to him, "I believe you will recognize the address."

Harry looked down at the letter she handed him.

_Eleanor Barton-Dursley_

_Second Bedroom on the Left_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Surrey_

A cold knot that Harry hadn't felt in years seemed to pull itself tight in the pit of his stomach. Wordlessly he handed the letter to Ginny and stood up, crossing the room to look out of the window at the courtyard below.

"This is Harry's cousin's child?" asked Ginny.

"Well," said Minerva, "I believe it might be."

Harry shivered. He didn't think he could be more unsettled than if someone told him Tom Riddle was downstairs waiting for a nice friendly chat. He kept his back turned to the women, but he could make out Ginny looking at him with concern in her pale reflection in the window.

The names of all children eligible for Hogwarts appeared magically within the admissions book every spring. Every summer, the letters would go out automatically to the wizard-born children, to the last place they slept. The Muggle-born children's letters appeared on the head's desk so that they could be hand delivered.

"Do you know how this will be received?" asked Ginny; she always knew the right questions to ask.

"No, I don't. That's why I was hoping you could come with me, Harry."

"I might make things worse," Harry said without turning around.  Did Dudley live in Privet Drive because he couldn't get along on his own? Perhaps jail time was included somewhere in the scenario if Dudley hadn't given up assault and battery as a hobby. Harry imagined a jobless, hopeless 'Dudders' flicking through the channels in the obsessively clean living room that Petunia would still keep. What kind of woman would have children with someone like that?

An image of Merope Gaunt as she had been in the memory Dumbledore had shown him so long ago appeared unbidden. Hopeless, abused, bereft of even enough will for her magic to work properly in her defense. And then another borrowed memory, of a dark-haired woman weeping while a black haired boy comforted her. Harry shook his head to bring himself back to the matter at hand.

"...take her, if it came to it." Ginny was saying stoutly to Minerva, "Wouldn't we, Harry?"

Harry realized that he'd missed the last part of the conversation, "Sorry?" He turned around to face the two witches.

"I was saying that, if Eleanor has a bad home situation," Minerva replied, "I would intervene to find a wizarding family to take her in, if necessary." She looked sadly at Harry, "I never could get Dumbledore to do that for you, Harry." she looked away, "I have always regretted it."

"At least it's not addressed to 'The Cupboard Under The Stairs.'" said Harry with a sardonic little smile.

Minerva winced as though someone slapped her and her cheeks reddened with shame, “Harry. I knew your letter went astray, but…”

Harry sighed, wishing he hadn't brought it up, "Yeah, that's where my first letter was addressed. I thought I told you." He shrugged, "I know you know how much trouble Hagrid had, finally getting it to me."

"I didn't know about the address, Harry," Minerva replied. "I understand Hagrid quite lost his temper with your relatives when he did get you your letter. I suppose I could ask him to accompany me if you'd rather not."

At that image, Harry grinned, "No sense in giving Dudley an early heart attack." he said. He looked at Ginny, losing his smile, "Will you come too?" he asked her quietly.

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it." Ginny’s smile was hard. "I think it's time I met your dear cousin."

"When did you want to go?" Harry asked Minerva.

"According to my information, both of Eleanor's parents and Eleanor are generally at home by 5:00." Minerva said, standing, "I thought we could take care of this today."

Harry saw the sense in that. He and Ginny ran upstairs to change into something properly Muggle. Minerva transfigured her robes into a conservative black dress. Ginny stuck with her old standby of slacks and sweater while Harry threw a sports coat over the shirt and trousers he was already wearing. He was vaguely aware that his Muggle clothes were about twenty years out of date, and he wasn’t as skinny as he’d once been, but he wasn't much fussed about impressing Dudley.

“Kreacher, we’re going out for the evening. You and Lily should have some dinner while we’re gone,” Ginny called down to the kitchen.

“And help Lily finish her homework, please,” Harry added, then thought better of it. “I mean she should do it, and you should only help her on the parts she doesn’t understand.” With children and house-elves, it was important to be clear.

They apparated in front of the house Harry recognized as once belonging to old Arabella Figg. Harry remembered the Dementor attack that had taken place on the next street over. How he and Mrs. Figg had dragged Dudley back to the safety of Privet Drive.

In a much shorter time than Harry was comfortable with, they stood in front of number four, Privet Drive. It was still neat and tidy, the flowers looking very similar to the ones Harry used to tend.  

Harry felt Ginny's small hand clasp his damp one and realized he’d stopped to stare at the flowers. "It'll be alright," she whispered.

Minerva raised her hand and knocked on the door. They waited a long time without an answer; the curtains didn't even move.

Minerva made an irritated noise in her throat, "I apologize for bringing you out here for nothing. My sources told me that they are home this time of day." She walked back down the path and out of the gate with Harry and Ginny following.

Harry wasn't sure if he was relieved or not, "Maybe they're running late tonight?" he glanced up and down the sidewalk. The only person in sight was a tall man jogging towards them, "Maybe we should come back after dinner?"

"Hmm," said Minerva, "Perhaps it might be better if..."

"Harry?" called a voice, "That's never Harry Potter?" The jogger had gotten close enough to see them properly.

Harry glanced at Ginny and pulled his "public" smile onto his face. It had been a couple of years since someone randomly asked for an autograph, but it still happened.

The man slowed and stopped, goggling at him. A powerfully built man, with short sandy hair, he looked as though he could have wrestled hippogriffs for the sheer entertainment.

"Yes, I'm Harry Potter." He could never bring himself to be rude to those who wanted to talk to him. From time to time he met nutters, but for the most part, people only wanted a few words. Sometimes they even bought him a drink.

The man's face lit up, "Harry! You saw the book then? I never thought you'd come."

Harry glanced at Ginny and Minerva whose faces mirrored his confusion, "Sorry?"

The man started to laugh, "You don't recognize me?" he reached out to clasp Harry's shoulder, "Harry, it's me. Dudley!"

The man's face suddenly snapped into focus. Twenty years of sensible eating and exercise had turned Dudley into a handsome man rather than what Harry had been picturing.

Quelling the urge to whip his wand out and hex him, Harry stepped back out of the larger man’s grasp. The last time they were together,  Dudley had thanked Harry for saving him from the Dementors, but that one moment didn't erase what had happened in this house for seventeen years.

Dudley’s shoulders sagged and his smile faded. "I suppose I can't expect...well; we do have a lot to talk about." He almost seemed to be talking to himself. After a second, he took in that they weren’t alone. "Who are your companions?" he asked politely.

"Oh. Um, this is my wife, Ginny."

Ginny cautiously extended her hand which Dudley shook with surprising exuberance. “I’m delighted to meet you,” he said, sounding very sincere.

 "And this is Professor McGonagall."

"Ah. Professor. Of course, I should have realized.” Dudley’s voice became deferential. He took her extended hand solemnly. “I'm very pleased Harry brought you."

The three looked at each other mystified.

“Will you come in?” Dudley waved them back through the gate, pulling out his keys and unlocking the front door.

On the threshold, an instinctive urge to back away gripped Harry. _Don’t be ridiculous_ , he told himself. He was thirty-nine years old. He had a wife, three children and a place on the Wizengamot. He had money, prestige and the best friends any man, wizard or muggle, had ever had. In his lifetime, he had faced dragons, dementors, and dark wizards. It was ridiculous that the sight of a door to a cupboard under a staircase should make him blanch.

A small bolt type lock held it closed. As Harry focused his eyes on the lock, his breathing sped up, and the cold knot in his stomach turned to a hot, sick anger. Why was the lock there? If he found out they'd been shutting another child in there, he wasn't sure he'd be responsible for his actions. He clasped his hands behind his back, surreptitiously feeling in his left sleeve that his wand was there.

Ginny reached out to grasp his hand. After so many years, she knew the signs of his panic attacks. She turned all the way around to look him in the eyes, "Harry." she said very softly, "I'm right here. If it's too much, we can just go home, and Minerva can handle it, all right?"

"Just don't let me do anything stupid. Okay?" When he looked again, he saw that the latch was small and flimsy.  Merely meant to keep a boot cupboard door from swinging open.

Dudley led them into a very different sitting room than the one Harry remembered. Gone were the fussy textiles and immaculate furnishings. In their place were a comfortable leather couch and love seat, a coffee table piled high with books and a small computer sort of thing. Rather than peach wallpaper, the walls were a muted grey. The television was much larger and thinner than the one the one the Dursley's had owned although there did seem to be some variety of game controllers carelessly shoved underneath it.

"Just let me nip up and change my clothes," Dudley called as he pounded up the stairs.

The witches sat down on the leather couch. Minerva looked at the titles of the stack of books while Ginny peered at the electronic bric-a-brac. Harry went to inspect the photos above the mantlepiece.

One photo was of Dudley dressed in a suit standing with another man. Another was a girl of about Lily's age with dark hair and a tense smile. It was strange to see photographs that stayed still.

A framed pen and ink drawing sat on the end of the mantle; a young man in clothes that were too large and whose eyes held a haunted expression gazed out into the living room. Harry stared at it before asking, "Ginny? Does that look like me?"

Ginny stood up again, walked over to look at it, "Yes, I think it does." she said slowly.

Minerva stood to look at the picture too, "Of course that's you, Harry. You looked like that in your sixth year."

"What's that doing here, I wonder?" No pictures of Vernon or Petunia graced the walls, although there were several of an older couple.

The sound of  Dudley thumping down the stairs was so familiar that if Harry shut his eyes, he would hear Vernon yelling at him.

Harry took a deep breath, checking for his wand again. His cousin was taking three full-grown wizards showing up on his doorstep well. That could change when they explained the reason for the visit.

 


	2. Dudley

"Can I get you something?" called Dudley from the kitchen, "I can make some tea, or coffee."

"Tea would be lovely." Ginny supplied, watching Harry who found himself voiceless. Had Dudley really just offered Harry tea?

Dudley entered the living room having changed into a tidy lavender shirt with black trousers.

The three wizards still stood near the mantlepeice. Dudley's eyes flicked to the portrait, "Saw that already, did you?" he asked quietly, "It's the best I could do."

"You did that?" asked Harry astonished.

"Yes. I.." a tinny version of a song Harry thought he recognized as an old Beatles tune began playing from somewhere, interrupting Dudley. Ginny and Minerva looked around the room for the source as well.

Dudley reached into his pocket, "Sorry, I need to take this." he said, apologetically.

Out of his pocket Dudley took a small black device. He looked at it, pressed a button on it with his thumb, held it up to his ear like a telephone. After moment, Harry realized it was a telephone. Harry remembered that the mobile phones had been becoming common when he'd last been to muggle London. He also remembered Hermione trying to make one work for her. It'd taken alot of effort-in the end she'd had to make a magic one from scratch since the magic seemed to interefere with the electronics in the devices-they kept coming to rather incendiary ends.

"Hello, sweetheart." Dudley paused, sighed, "You're kidding." pause, Dudley shook his head, "All right, we'll sort it. Is Eleanor all right?" Dudley smiled apparently with relief, "Good. Listen, love, my cousin's here." Whoever was on the other end of the phone exclaimed loudly, "Yes. Not sure how long." Dudley looked at Harry, "You don't mind meeting the family?"

"Uh, No, we..." Harry replied, then stopped as Dudley turned away. He looked a little desperately towards Ginny and Minerva who both shrugged, equally at a loss.

"All right, see you in a minute." Dudley said into the phone. He clicked the button and put it back in his pocket.

Minerva cleared her throat, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Dursley, but we have actually come on some business about your daughter, Eleanor." wanting to bring the meeting back to the point.

Dudley was brought up short, "Eleanor?" he said blankly, "Eleanor? What about her?"

The three wizards looked at each other. Ginny started to speak, but Harry beat her to it, "Dudley, she's a witch."

Harry waited for the explosion. Harry waited for any kind of reaction.

Dudley stood completely still, looking not unlike the last time Harry had seen him, as if he were processing a concept just a little too difficult to understand. He opened his mouth after a second, but nothing came out.

The kettle began to shriek.

"Would you...stay for dinner? Clearly there's a great deal to discuss." said Dudley, finally, the sound seeming to bring him to his senses.

"Yes, that would be a fine idea." Said Minerva

Dudley turned to go back into the kitchen, muttering to himself. He pulled his phone out of his pocket again, pressed a few buttons "Love? Will you stop and pick up some take away?" he turned back to the wizards, "Indian all right with you?"

The three wizards all nodded. This was going rather oddly, even given the circumstances. Dudley left the room.

Harry took a deep breath, glanced at Ginny, who gave him an encouraging nod, "He asked us to dinner. That's a good sign, right?" she whispered.

"Let me go talk to him." Harry whispered back.

Dudley was leaning over the sink. His shoulders were shaking.

The kitchen wasn't much changed from when Harry had lived there. Even the smell of the cleaning products were the same. It was eerie, Harry felt that Petunia would walk in any second and snap at him to get dinner started.

"Dudley..." Harry wasn't sure what to say. He had expected anger, not tears.

Dudley swung around, took a step forward.

For a moment, Harry flashed on Uncle Vernon. Walking toward him with a malevolent smile. Harry was thirteen again and waiting for a beating.

Harry couldn't help it, his wand was in his hand, without conscious thought. He fell back into a fighting stance, his heart racing.

"Harry!" Dudley said in a low cautious tone, snapping Harry back to the present, "It's okay." he took a step back, hands held out with the palms down, making little "calm down" motions, "Just go easy with that." he indicated Harry's raised wand with his chin.

Damn it.

Harry looked stupidly at his wand before lowering it, "Sorry." he said.

Dudley's face was dry and his eyes showed no sign of tears. Had he been laughing, then? His face held no humor now. Just a sad little smile, "It's hard for you to be here, is it?" he said crossing his arms and leaning against the sink.

Harry sighed, slid his wand back into his sleeve, "I'm fine." he lied.

Dudley shook his head, "You always said that when things were bad and one of the teachers asked you if you were okay. The kids I work with do that too. I'm pretty certain it translates from abused childese into something like 'Well, I'm still breathing'"

Harry felt like he'd taken a Bludger to the head. That was a bloody strange thing to say.

"Everything all right?" Ginny had come out into the hallway. She was the usual six or seven feet behind Harry when she announced her presence. Even the children knew not to come up on Harry without making some noise.

"We're fine." called Dudley, "Just bringing the tea."

Dudley picked up the tea tray. Harry had the weird impulse to take it from him, Aunt Petunia's voice in his head berating him for letting "Diddiekins" do all the work.

Dudley sat down, putting the tea tray on the coffee table, pushing the books aside. The computer folded up rather ingeniously, the thin screen laying flat on the keyboard. The last time Harry had seen a computer, it had been an enormous affair that took up the whole desk in Dudley's room.

He handed tea first to Minerva and then to Ginny who had resumed her seat on the settee. "You still take sugar?" he asked Harry, who was standing uneasily in the doorway.

Harry nodded, coming forward to take it. He couldn't sit for the tension, so he stood by Ginny who reached up to pat his arm.

"So, Mr Dursley," Minerva said after another moment of uncomfrotable silence, "I have come to offer your daughter a place at Hogwarts."

"Please, call me Dudley, Professor." Dudley said genially, "I will admit this is a bit awkward, but it would certainly explain some things. How did you get Eleanor's name?"

"Eligible student's names appear in the admissions books." Minerva replied.

"Harry's letters came by owl." Dudley said, glancing at Harry.

"Harry's parents were wizards, and it was assumed by the then-Headmaster, that his aunt and uncle would have been comfortable with owl post. As Eleanor's parents are muggle's it is usual for someone from the school to bring you her letter. I prefer to do it myself when possible. I'm currently Hogwart's headmistress."

A momentary expression of disappointment flitted across Dudley's face, "So the old headmaster- Dumbledore I think?-he's retired?"

The three wizards glanced at each other. After twenty years, it was an old grief.

"Professor Dumbledore died the June before my 17th birthday." Harry said quietly.

Dudley looked wistful, "Really? I didn't know. I only met him the once. He made a great impression on me."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore was wont to do that." Minerva replied.

"Do you remember what he said to Mum and Dad, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, the only thing he remembered of that meeting was the little glasses of elf made wine Dumbldore had conjured hitting the Dursleys over the head.

"He said that the best that could be said of my parent's treatment of you, was that you escaped the appalling damage they visited upon me." replied Dudley, with a little laugh, "It took me a year to work out what he meant. And it took my parents a lot longer than that."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, "And where are...your parents?" he wasn't entirely sure why he was asking, maybe morbid curiousity.

"Dead." said Dudley, "Dad dropped dead of heart attack, oh, sixteen years ago. Mum had breast cancer, she died a year or two after that. The only one left is that old bat Marge and she's too mean to die."

"Oh." Harry said a little stunned, an odd sort of emptiness was in his stomach now. Grief? He couldn't possibly be feeling grief for the Dursleys, could he?

"I did try to get hold of you," Dudley was saying, apologetically, "But you're not in the phone book. I've Googled you and it always comes back with a million hits that aren't you."

Harry was only following half of what Dudley was saying, "You looked for me?"

"Yes." Dudley looked down at the teacup in his hand, "For a few years now. I wanted to talk to you. Philip's wanted to meet you too. I've never told him about the magic business, of course, but I told him about how we were raised. How Mum and Dad used to treat you. How they encouraged me to treat you." Dudley looked up again, "I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry dropped his teacup, "Damn. Sorry." he said scrambling to pull out his wand.

"I've got it." said Ginny moving faster. Harry realized that his hand was shaking and Ginny didn't want him accidentally blowing a hole in the carpet. With a deft flick, Ginny cleaned up the spill and returned Harry's cup to the coffee table. Harry sat down next to her.

Dudley didn't turn a hair at this blatant display of magic, Harry was surprised to see, "Well, I'm sorry to hear about your parents." Harry said.

"Don't be." said Dudley a little flatly, "Marge was the only one to turn up at Dad's funeral. She made sure to tell me that it was all my fault. And Mum...well, the cancer didn't do anything for her personality. She blamed you for everything that ever went wrong with her life. Including what was wrong with me."

"What did she think was wrong with you?" Petunia never ever found fault with Dudley. And in the little time he'd been in the house, Harry hadn't seen anything Petunia could have found fault with.

Dudley smiled, a bitter smile that looked out of place on his face. "Tell me Harry, what was the one thing my parents hated more than wizards?"

Harry drew a complete blank.


	3. Eleanor

"Daddy?" the door slammed, and a high pitched, slightly tremulous girl's voice called from the front hallway.

"In the sitting room." called Dudley, standing up again to meet the girl halfway.

"I blew another one up!" The girl flew into the room and threw herself at Dudley, "I don't know what happened!" she didn't seem to notice the other adults in the room as she was quite distraught, "It-it just..." her words were lost in a flood of tears.

Dudley caught the child in his arms, "All right, love. All right. Your mobile again?"

They couldn't see much of the girl as she buried her head against his chest. She was tiny compared to Dudley, with dark hair bound up in a pony tail and a blue school uniform.

"Same as last time." said a man's voice, resignedly, from the hallway, "She said she was worried because I was running late. When she tried to call me, the thing started smoking. She dropped it before she burned herself this time." there was some noise of putting things away in the hallway, "Let me just put the dinner in the kitchen"

Dudley patted the girl's hair, looking relieved, "Well, I'm glad you're all right, popkin." he said to her.

Slowly, Harry's stomach was unclenching. Dudley was looking after Eleanor the way he, Harry, would console Lily. Dudley wasn't recoiling from the girl in horror as Harry had been still half afraid he would.

Ginny pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it over to Dudley, who took it gratefully, "This would be Eleanor, I take it?" she said kindly.

The child started, finally taking in the wizards' presence.

Dudley grinned, "Yes. This is our young lady."

Eleanor turned around slowly, taking the handkerchief from her father, "Hello." she said very quietly, not meeting their eyes. Clearly embarrassed by their witnessing of her tears, she twisted the handkerchief around in her hands and looked at her feet.

Dudley sighed, "That keeps happening. Anytime she's upset and she tries to use the thing. And the laptops...Not so bad with the desktops for some reason."

"What keeps happening, Mr. Dursley?" asked Minerva.

"Please, Professor." Dudley said with a shudder, "Mr. Dursley was my father. In answer to your question, her phone keeps blowing up. Especially, if she tries to make a call when she's upset." with dawning comprehension he looked at the three wizards, "That's why you lot use owls, isn't it?"

"I'm given to understand the the more delicate Muggle instruments don't do well with magic." replied Minerva.

"Huh." Dudley shook his head. "Phillip?" he called to the man in the kitchen, "Need any help?"

"No, no. Shall we eat now? I can soon put the plates on the table. There's just six of us?" The man called.

"This is a conversation that should include both parents Mr...ahh..Dudley." Minerva said kindly, "My information says that Eleanor lives with both her parents."

"I do have both my parents here." Eleanor said sharply, looking up, defiantly. She put her hand in Dudley's, "Phillip Barton is my papa and this is my daddy."

Harry stared at Dudley as the penny dropped. He could well imagine Vernon and Petunia's reeaction to this.

Dudley faced them with a set jaw, clearly apprehensive of how his family would be viewed by Harry and his lot.

"Oh, I beg your pardon." said Minerva, smoothly, "I should have realized." She smiled reassuringly at Dudley and Eleanor. Dudley for his part relaxed a little.

"Eleanor, this is Professor McGonagol and your Uncle Harry and your Aunt Ginny." said Dudley. She wiped her hand on her skirt and held it out. Ginney smiled widely at the girl as she shook her hand. Minerva held out her hand with due decorum, although Harry could see the crinkle around her eyes that said she was entertained by the girl's earnestness.

"Hello, Eleanor." said Harry taking the girl's hand in turn.

"So are you the famous Harry Potter?" asked the other man, who had just come in the room. He was shorter than Dudley with black hair. Over his expensive shirt, he'd donned an apron. "I'm Phillip. Dudley's told me alot about you." he held his hand out to Harry with a friendly smile.

"Hello." Harry stood up to shake the man's hand. He was feeling a little bemused.

"This is Harry's wife Ginny and Professor McGonagall." Dudley supplied. He turned to Harry, "This is my partner and Eleanor's papa, Phillip."

"Delighted to meet you, Phillip" said Minerva, "We have a great deal to talk about."

"Well, dinner's on the table." said Phillip brightly, "I'm starving and we can talk and eat, can't we?"

"That was quick." said Ginny surprised.

Harry remembered that Ginny had never had Muggle take away, "They bring it home in boxes, from the restaurant." he explained.

"Oh, that's very convenient." Minerva said as they followed Phillip into the kitchen. Phillip heard the exchange and looked at them a little oddly, but didn't ask what they meant.

"I wasn't sure what everyone liked. And SOMEONE neglected to inform me how many we would be for dinner, so I bought a little of everything." Phillip grinned. The table was loaded with several Indian dishes, a large plate of rice and a stack of flat bread. Sure enough, in the rubbish was tin foil and take away boxes.

When Harry was growing up, Petunia and Vernon wouldn't have had a meal like this in the house if they were paid. Rarely, Petunia would make something she called curry, generally with leftovers from the Sunday roast. Harry would get a bigger share of this meal than usual since Vernon always complained that it caused him indigestion. Then Vernon would spent the rest of the evening ranting on about "the bloody Paki's".

The kitchen was clearly Phillip's domain, at the moment. "Sit down, before it gets cold." he said, "This one's the vegetarian." he said pointing out one dish, "This one's very spicy lamb, and this one's mild chicken. Here, tich, hand me the plates" Eleanor handed them down from the cupboard and took her own seat between Phillip and Dudley.

Harry felt very strange to be sitting in this kitchen. When he was a child, he hardly ever sat with the Dursleys when they ate dinner. Vernon used to tell him to go pretend he didn't exist. When he was in primary school, Petunia reckoned they fed him enough at lunchtime during the school year and during the holidays she'd tell him to make a sandwich and get out of her sight.

There was a little silence as everyone served themselves.

"So, Harry, did you come because of the book?" asked Phillip. That was the second time Harry had been asked about a book.

"Uh no...Actually I'm not sure what book you mean." said Harry, "No, Minerva asked us to come because..." Harry wasn't sure how to tell Phillip the news. He glanced at Minerva who smiled encouragingly, "She wanted to offer Eleanor a place at my old school."

Phillip stared at Harry, then looked at Minerva and finally to Dudley. Harry realized with an internal wince that Dudley may have kept up the fiction with his partner that he went to a school for "Incurably Criminal Boys".

"Oh, but that's wonderful!" Phillip smiled enthusiastically, "That's a school for the gifted, isn't it? Dudley! You didn't tell me you put in Eleanor's name for that!" He put his arm around Eleanor, "Good for you, darling." he told his daughter. Eleanor looked startled and a bit confused.

The wizards glanced at each other, relaxing a bit more.

"Ah, yes, about that, Phillip." Dudley began nervously, "Ah, when I said gifted, I wasn't able to tell you what type of gifts. Remember I said Harry was..."Dudley glanced at Harry apologetically, "Different?"

Phillip shrugged, "Well, yes. And Petunia went on about it enough." he turned to Harry, "She went a bit funny at the end. Do you have an extra limb or something? I assumed the way Petunia used to carry on that you must at least have three eyes." he turned back to Dudley, "Well, what is the big secret? I've never been able to work it out."

"Hogwarts is a school for wizards." said Minerva, "Your daughter is a witch."

"Sorry?" said Phillip after a second.

"You know how her mobile keeps exploding?" said Dudley with a half smile, "It's her magic doing it."

Eleanor was looking as though she suspected the adults of making fun of her.

"Have you ever had strange things happen to you?" Harry asked Eleanor quickly. He remembered this terrible moment from his own childhood-that sense that what one was hearing just couldn't be true, but oh how one wanted it to be, "Maybe when you're afraid or angry? Or you've seen things you can't explain?"

Slowly, Eleanor nodded. Her eyes were enormous, "My mobile blows up every time I get upset. And...oh...when I was little I could make my dolls move, without touching them. Is that what you mean?"

Harry and Ginny nodded smiling and Minerva handed her the Hogwarts letter.

Phillip leaned over and read the letter over Eleanor's shoulder. Dudley looked at the wizards, "Does that big bloke still work at Hogwarts? The one who brought Harry's letter?"

Minerva smiled, "Yes, he teaches Care of Magical Creatures."

"I'd like to meet him again." said Dudley.

"You're kidding!" said Harry surprised.

Dudley grinned at Harry, "I'd love to meet the one who wrecked the living room too."

"That was my dad!" exclaimed Ginny.

"Is that a good idea?" Harry asked. Did Dudley want to give them a piece of his mind? "I mean, I'm sorry, things were always so..."

"Harry, calm down." Dudley suddenly looked concerned again, "I'm not still annoyed, if you're worried about that. I just...I don't know any wizards except for them. And the few I ever met seemed so fond of you." Dudley's face turned wistful, "I always wanted to know more about your world, but you know how Mum and Dad were. And when I turned out gay, they just assumed you had something to do with it. Mum wanted me to go to 'therapy'" he gave a snort of unpleasant laughter, "to become 'normal' and Dad...well, I'm just glad he'd insisted on those boxing lessons."

"Why?" Harry asked slowly.

"It taught me to take a punch without going down." replied Dudley tightly, "I would have loved to find you that night."

"Oi." said Phillip, "We can talk about family history when there's no so many here." he looked pointedly at Eleanor.

"Quite right," agreed Minerva. Apparently feeling that she had enough credence from Eleanor's parents, she launched into her prepared speech that she gave the parents of Muggle-borns that explained in the simplest terms the new world they were entering.

It was two hours later when she stood up and bade them good night. Thanking them for the fine dinner and the celebratory wine Phillip had opened. Ginny had promised to come and take them to Diagon Alley to get Eleanor's school things the next weekend. She also promised to bring Lily with her the next time she came.

Harry had sat very quietly through all this, watching Dudley and considering what he'd said. When they all stood to go, Dudley followed Harry outside.

"Go on Ginny, I'll catch up." Harry told her.

Ginny gave him a kiss, "Take your time, I'll expect you when I see you." she disapparated with a crack.


	4. Hermione

Harry and Dudley regarded each other in the light of the street lamp.

"So. Can I buy you a drink?" asked Dudley, "Pub down the street's not bad."

"Pub sounds good." answered Harry.

They were silent until they got to the place. Harry kept remembering different pieces from his childhood. He shivered and tried to cast off the bad memories.

"Lager for you?" asked Dudley.

Harry nodded, "Whatever you're having." he wondered whether it was wise to have anything at all for this conversation, but he didn't think he could have it entirely sober. He wasn't on call tonight and Ginney wasn't expecting him. He hardly ever used his personal days, so if he was hung over in the morning he could owl in sick.

He found a table in the corner. When Dudley brought them back their drinks, Harry took a long grateful swallow. He noticed that Dudley had brought him a pint, but had only a half himself. Dudley followed his gaze, "Oh, I'm on call tonight."

"Ah." Harry replied. He couldn't think of anything more.

Dudley sat just staring at him. Harry reckoned it was up to him to start, "I like Phillip." he said, "He's seems really nice."

"He is." Dudley smiled, "Your wife and he seemed to get along famously."

Another uncomfortable silence. Harry took another swallow of his lager. Hell, for this conversation he probably needed a pint of firewhisky. He started to cast about for a safe topic. "So, Eleanor seems pleased." he said, guardedly, "What about you?"

Dudley gave him that sad little smile he'd been directing at Harry all night, "Thought I was going to go mad like Dad did when you got all those letters?"

"I...uh...considered it a possibility." said Harry wryly.

Dudley sighed, "Do you remember the Dementors?"

Harry snorted, he was never likely to forget that. "Yeah." was all he said.

"I never got over it." Dudley shook his head and shivered a little.

Harry winced, "Dudley, I'm sorry..."

"Not the Dementors, the fact that you saved me. I saw all the trouble you got into, all those letters. And I'll bet you got into trouble at school, too." he said shrewdly.

"Long time ago." said Harry, eyeing the place on his hand where the scars Umbridge had given him were still visible if you looked for them.

"You know what my worst memory was, at the time?" Dudley asked, taking a sip of his own drink, "It was listening to dad try to beat the 'freakishness' out of you, and knowing that if they knew about me, they'd turn on me too."

"Sorry?" said Harry, startled, he only remembered Dudley being entertained when he was being punished.

"It wasn't long before you went off to school. Maybe it was the time with the snake, I don't remember the exact episode. I had just figured out who my dad was ranting about, when he was going on about poofs, nancy boys and fairies." Dudley sighed, "I'd also just figured out that I was one. And I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if I Dad found out I was one of those, I'd be under the stairs so fast my head would spin."

"But..." Harry was confused, "You never seemed...I mean I still had to keep the hell out of your way or..." he didn't want to finish. He rubbed the scars on back of his hand.

Dudley looked down at the table, "That's why I never got over it. You could've just run. Told your wizard friends that there was nothing you could have done. It would've been completely understandable. I heard what Old Lady Figg said. That there were supposed to be adults guarding you."

Harry shrugged, "It seemed like there was no choice at the time."

"I remember that big silver deer thing you conjured. What is that?" Dudley asked.

"It's a Patronus. It's like an anti-Dementor. It's sort of a symbol of everything that makes you happy."

Dudley nodded, "Are they always the same? Or does everyone have a different one?"

"They're all different." Harry wondered why Dudley wanted to know.

"Well, after that night, it occurred to me that my parents were trying to turn me into a flipping sociopath." Dudley's voice was low, almost a growl. Harry thought Dudley sounded a bit like Sirius used to, when he spoke about his family. "Mum used to shout at me when we were little if I so much as said a kind word to you. I think it was the only thing she really ever got angry with me over." Dudley shivered, "And, of course, there was Dad...I was never brave." he spread his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Harry didn't know what to say about that, so he just grunted noncommittally.

Dudley looked Harry square in the eye. "Tell me, Harry, are Wizarding children just a little more, er, durable than other children?"

Harry thought of all the spills the children had taken. Of his own falls from his broom, "I think so, yeah."

"I thought so. If they weren't, Mum and Dad would have been jailed for homicide before the wizards came back for you."

Harry scoffed, "Oh, come on Dudley, it wasn't that bad."

"Really, Harry?" asked Dudley, "So you weren't ready to hex me into next week in the kitchen?"

"Sorry, about that." Harry took another drink, embarrassed.

"You still apologize a lot." observed Dudley, "I should be apologizing to you." he looked deadly serious, "If I could apologize for Mum and Dad I would, but I can only apologize for myself. I'm sorry."

Harry felt his face go red. There didn't seem enough air in the room, suddenly, "You don't need to, it's all right," Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He remembered, oddly, the first day he and Dudley had attended primary school. When the teacher had come to his name, he hadn't answered because he really didn't know his own name. Dudley had elbowed him in the ribs when the woman had called the third time and hissed, "She means you, Freak."

He finished up his pint in about three gulps. He was claustrophobic again, "Can we go outside?" he said quietly. He always felt better away from people, when he had one of these turns. He wished he had a calming draft on him. He could call Kreacher to bring him one. Unfortunately, Kreacher would tell Ginny, and he didn't like to worry her.

The cool air felt better on his face.

"All right, now?" asked Dudley solicitously.

Harry nodded.

"HELP! I need somebody!" sang Dudley's mobile from his pocket, another Beatles tune, "HELP! Not just anybody. Help, I need somone. He-elp"

"Oh sorry, need to take this. It's work" Harry assumed that the song must be different for different numbers. That was clever.

"This is Dudley." Dudley's voice was very business like, "Yeah? A weird one? How far? Okay, text me the address. Tell the police I'll be there in twenty minutes. Yes. Tell them that unless a delay is a clear threat, I want to take the statement before he's taken to hospital. Twenty minutes." Dudley had already turned and was halfway down the street, beckoning Harry with a jerk of his head.

"What's going on?" asked Harry jogging to keep up.

"Emergency intake." Dudley said pocketing his mobile. He looked at Harry appraisingly, "I shouldn't take you, but it's a weird one they said. You're welcome to come, if you like"

Harry looked at Dudley quizzically. "Weird?"

They'd made it to number four and Dudley was taking his car keys out. It had been a long time since Harry had ridden in a car.

"Yeah. When I started seriously looking for you a couple years ago, I told them at work to send me the weird cases. I reckoned that I might be able to contact wizards that way and one of them was sure to know how to contact you. I could at least give them my letter to give to an owl."

Dudley slid into the car, moving a stack of binders out of Harry's way, "Anyway, it's been mostly just nutters. Sometimes crack addicts, sometimes religious crazies who decide the child is 'of the devil'. A couple of times though, I'm sure it was a wizard kid...and then they just disappeared into the system. Like magic, really." He smiled lopsidedly.

"What exactly do you do, Dudley?" Harry asked, not really following.

"Oh, sorry. I'm a social worker. I do care placements." Dudley pulled the ohone from his pocket again. Looked at the little screen, "Oh good, it's closer than I thought." they pulled out of the driveway. "Anyway, when I'm on call I do emergency placements. You know, when the police have been called."

They drove in silence for a moment, then, "Damn, Harry, can you call Phillip and tell him I'm doing an intake? I forgot to call him, I don't want him to worry when he sees the car gone."

Harry caught the phone Dudley tossed him. There was a miniscule keyboard on it, "How do I use it?" he asked feeling stupid.

"Hell. Just dial the number and press the green button." Dudley rattled off a phone number, sounding stressed, "Try not to blow it up."

Harry did so and was rewarded with Phillip's voice,

"Hello, love."

"No it's me, Harry." said Harry, "Dudley asked me to call you and tell you he got a call from work. Emergency intake."

"And he asked you to call 'cause he's driving, right?" asked Phillip.

"Yeah, he must've done."

"Tell him I love him and I'm glad he listened for once. I'll see him later. Eleanor's already in bed. Little tich's all worn out." Phillip said fondly, "See you." he rang off.

"He said to tell you he loves you and he's glad you listened to him for once." repeated Harry, "And Eleanor's in bed."

Dudley smiled.

They pulled up to a block of flats in one of the more run down streets. Several police vehicles and an ambulance stood outside. Dudley pulled out a card from the visor of the car, "They won't let you in without identification...Why don't you stay here until I find out if someone I know's on scene.."

Harry pulled the card out of his pocket that he used when he had to deal with muggle authorities. It was spelled to look like whatever badge the muggle in question needed to see, "It's okay, I have identification." he showed it to Dudley, who gasped.

"Do all you wizards have something like that? It looks authentic." he compared it to his own ID which is what it had taken the appearance of."

"No, that's issued by the Ministry. You need a security clearance to get one." replied Harry as Dudley gave it back, "I'm an Auror." at Dudley's blank look, Harry tried again, "Like wizard police."

"Will you get into trouble for using it? Off duty, I mean?"

Harry grimaced, "Strictly speaking, Aurors are never off duty. If there's a wizard involved or there might be a wizard involved, I'm within my jursdiction."

Dudley nodded and got out of the car.

A uniformed officer approached them and asked for their ID. A crowd had gathered, attracted by the show. Another uniformed woman came to talk to them, Harry thought the uniform was that of a paramedic rather than a police officer.

"Glad you got here, Dudley." she said, she sounded harrassed "Who've you got with you?" she nodded at Harry.

"Oh, this is Harry..." Dudley hesitated not being accustomed to making up stories on the spot.

Harry was though, "I'm training." he held out his hand. Now if he made any blatant gaffes, Dudley could better cover for him.

"Oh, well." she turned back to Dudley, "Well, the police were called because his mother was heard screaming at him for an hour and then noises in their flat like furniture being broken. The police had to break in. The mother was found to be completly disoriented. She told the police that her child had killed her boyfriend."

"Did he?" asked Dudley slowly.

The woman scoffed, "Hardly. The child is no more than four or five and the boyfriend is nowhere to be found."

"Does the child have injuries?" asked Dudley, pulling out his phone and typing rapidly on the keyboard with his thumbs.

The woman sighed, "We can't tell. He's hiding in a closet and we're afraid of making it worse if we try to pull him out."

"Have they cleared out the mother, then?"

"Oh, aye." the paramedic grinned a little maliciously, "We're taking her to hospital."

"Thanks. C'mon Harry."

As soon as they entered the flat, Harry felt it. Magic. Diffuse and chaotic, but strong. It felt like the first outburst of magic that a child might have, under the force of fear or pain, "It's one of ours all right." Harry said quietly to Dudley, "We're lucky the flat isn't blown up."

The flat was depressingly squalid, but not from magic. Dishes were piled in the sink and Harry noticed a cockroach scurry across the kitchen counter. A smell of gone off food, undone laundry and sour liquor pervaded the place.

Another paramedic stood in the doorway of the bedroom, "Back here." he called, "In there."

Dudley and Harry stared into the closet, piled high with junk and clothing. "Maybe you should go." Harry told the paramedic, "It's probably better with fewer of us."

The paramedic nodded, happy to leave it with them.

Dudley crouched on the floor, "Hello?"

A sniff was their answer.

"Can you come out? I'd like to talk to you." said Dudley gently, "I can't even see you in there."

"Are you cops? Mummy said the cops were coming to take me away." a tiny voice asked.

"No. We're not cops. You're mummy's gone to hospital and we need to arrange for someone to look after you." Dudley replied.

"I din't mean to do it." the child sniffed.

"Do what?" Harry crouched down beside Dudley, trying to sound reassuring.

"David said..." whatever "David" said was lost in the child's tears.

A few dishes fell off the counter.

"All right, calm down, now." Harry said in the voice he used on his own children when they were small, "We're not here to hurt you, we just need to know what happened."

"Are you hurt anywhere?" asked Dudley,

"N-no..."

Harry looked about the room to be sure no muggles were about and began levitating the rubbish in the closet to the side. If this had been a wizard's home he would have just vanished it, but he erred on the side of caution here.

He stopped when he heard approaching footsteps.

"Mr. Barton?" called a voice, "It's Ms. Granger. The office told me you might need help with this one."

Startled, Harry turned. Hermione stood there in her Muggle business suit, complete with briefcase.

"Harry!" she gasped, "Oh no. It's not something more than we thought, is it?"

"No, it's nothing like that." when Harry thought of it, it was no coincidence that Hermione would turn up, she was only one of three or four people in the office of Wizard Child Protection who handled muggleborn cases.

Dudley stared at Hermione for a long moment, "You know each other, Ms. Granger?" he shook his head and looked at Harry, "I was right. She's turned up on two other weird cases in the last couple years. Wizard right under my nose and I never saw it."

Hermione looked alarmed, her wand was in her hand, "Obl-"

Harry caught her hand, "It's ok...It's Dudley. My cousin."

"What? But your cousin's surname was Dursley." she said confused.

"Which I haven't gone by since I got married. Now could we please get back to the problem at hand?" Dudley said with some exasperation


	5. Tim

"Yes, of course." Hermione pulled herself together after giving Harry a good hard stare, "Where's the child?"

"Hiding under all that." Dudley pointed to the closet.

She knelt down, putting her briefcase beside her, but keeping wand in hand. The end of her wand lit, "Hello?"

A little whimper came from the back of the closet.

"Can I come in?" asked Hermione gently. Being smaller than either Harry or Dudley, she was able to wriggle into the spaces between the stacked up rubbish.

Dudley and Harry waited patiently as she had a whispered conversation with the child.

Harry caught words between the child's sobs, "David brings Mummy's medicine...he was...Mummy said...don't know what...sorry...sorry."

He moved a little further away, wondering whether it would be better to muffliato himself. This was not a conversation he wanted to eavesdrop on. Dudley on the other hand had crouched down, taken a small notebook out of his pocket and was giving every sign of writing down everything he could hear.

"Harry?" called Hermione, "The boyfriend's still here. Tim doesn't want to come out until he's gone. And...the boyfriend...well, you better use Revelio."

"Did you take care of the muggles outside?" asked Harry.

"Yes. They won't come in. I told them that it would be better if we handled it."

Harry raised his wand, "Hominem revelio"

On the kitchen counter, the scuttling cockroach glowed a vivid yellow, "Found him," Harry snorted, with a bitter laugh. What had the man tried to do to the child? He picked up one of the filthy glasses and trapped the insect underneath it

Hermione crawled out of the closet on her elbows. She and Dudley came over and stared at the disgusting thing.

"That's clever." remarked Dudley with a grim smile, "The little boy did that? I thought that sort of thing was only taught at your school?"

Hermione replied, "The child's magic did it. That's why you see so few cases of violent rape or child molestation in the Wizarding world. The magical core reacts to it more strongly than less intimate forms of violence."

"Convenient, that." Dudley said satisfied.

"So, what do you want me to do with him?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Move the glass." she pointed her wand, "Finite."

In less than thirty seconds, the cockroach had exploded into a man sitting on the counter.

Dudley jumped back, startled and swearing.

The man on the counter stared at his hands for a second before leaping down at Hermione, lunging for her neck.

Her wand came up, but she had no time to get off a hex before Harry cried, " Protego!". The man was thrown back, across the room. Landing with a crash against the kitchen cupboard. The whole time he was screaming, "I WAS A COCKROACH! THE LITTLE FREAK TURNED ME INTO A COCKROACH. I'LL FUCKING KILL HIM WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON HIM"

He frantically tried to regain his feet, but Dudley threw himself onto the man, "No, you don't." he said, wrestling the man back to the ground.

The room was full as a group of muggle police officers came charging in, apparently hearing the raised voice. Hastily, Hermione and Harry stowed their wands.

"Shit, are we going to have to obliviate the lot of them?" Harry hissed, watching as five officers and Dudley wrestled with the man.

Hermione smirked evily, "Not this time."

"What? But..." she'd been willing to obliviate a muggle for just saying the word "wizard" (Policy on Obliviation was one of the things Harry still debated from his seat in the Wizengamot), what was she playing at now?

"Watch." was all she said.

"A COCKROACH! THE CREEPY LITTLE BASTARD TURNED ME INTO A COCKROACH! A FUCKING COCKROACH!" the man was screaming even as they tried, unsuccessfully, to handcuff him. One of the officers finally pulled out a small device that was employed on the back of the man's neck and he went limp and quiet.

"Are you all right Ms Granger?" Dudley asked courteously, coming over.

"Fine, Mr. Barton." she replied, cordially, "He didn't really get near me."

One of the officers came over, "Where'd you find Mr. Samsa there?" he sneered.

"Passed out in the bedroom, on the floor by the wall, under a couple of blankets." Hermione told him, without missing a beat, "I suggest you take him to hospital for a tox screen. I have no idea what he could have been doing to cause that kind of psychotic break."

"Yeah. Coulda been crystals, I suppose, although all we've found so far is heroine. The mum must have gone off on a nod and forgot that the boyfriend was on a nod too, so she didn't look under anything." The man shook his head disgustedly, "She's out there telling the paramedics that the kid made her boyfriend disappear in a flash of light. I ask you...?" he scoffed, "They must have gotten some stuff tainted with more than the usual shi-uh-stuff."

Dudley and Hermione both nodded, sagely.

"Where's the kiddie, now?" asked the officer.

"Still in the closet." sighed Hermione, "He's pretty traumatized. Could you clear out your people? He's afraid of the police."

"Aye, yeah. I 'spect his mum told him all kinds of horror stories. I hate cases like this. I don't know how you lot can stand it. I really don't." the man walked away shaking his head and calling his people back out of the room.

When they had all gone, Hermione went back to the closet and crouched on the floor, "Tim? They took David away. You promised me you'd come out if they did."

A little boy with blonde hair and blue eyes hesitantly crawled into the light. He was wearing a filthy t-shirt and pants. He withdrew a bit when he spied Harry and Dudley, but Hermione said, "It's all right, they're with me." she turned and used her wand to summon one of the blankets off the bed. SHe wrapped the boy in it and drew him onto her lap, heedless of the dust he was covered in.

"Are you really a good witch?" he asked in a breathless whisper, "Like on telly?"

"Mm-hm." said Hermione, "Now, they took your mummy to hospital, so my job is to look after you."

"Will I see her again?" the boy asked. Harry's heart turned over in his chest.

"I'm going to wait outside," he whispered quietly to Dudley. Dudley gave him a nod.

As an Auror, Harry had only ever had to deal with a few cases that involved children, fortunately. Usually, they didn't affect him like this, though. He supposed it was just because it was coming on the heels of his evening with Dudley.

After the War, Harry had gone to see a mind healer. She'd helped him work through many of his issues, and she prescribed potions for his nightmares and depression. Harry reckoned he was going to need to see her again after tonight.

The paramedic he'd seen earlier walked over to him as he leaned against Dudley's car, "All right?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"We're wondering if we need to stay around, or if you're going to transport the kiddie yourselves?"

"I think we'll take him in my car." said Dudley from behind the paramedic. Hermione was walking with him and held the blanket wrapped child in her arms, "Less scary. I have a car seat in the boot."

The paramedic nodded and walked away as Dudley fussed with the car. Harry went to look at the bundle Hermione held in her arms.

"He's asleep." Hermione said, "I thought it would be easier. I don't like to apparate with him, so Dudley offered to drive me to St. Mungo's."

"Dudley said he worked with you before?" asked Harry quietly.

"Yeah, a couple of times. He kept asking awkward questions. If I'd have known it was your cousin, I'd have told you." Hermione said.

Harry smiled, knowingly, "No you wouldn't. You'd have told Ginny and let her decide whether to tell me."

"You two coming, then?" called Dudley.

They buckled the sleeping boy into the car seat.

"So where are we going? " asked Dudley.

Hermione smiled ruefully, "I better drive. You won't find it, it's got Muggle repelling charms. It's unplottable for a start."

"I'll sit in back with the little one." offered Harry, sliding in next to the sleeping child.

"Ms. Granger? Mr Barton?" the police officer was calling, "I need some forms signed..."

Dudley and Hermione walked back to the police car.

The child beside Harry shivered, whimpered and opened his eyes. He gasped when he saw Harry, "Where'd the witch lady go?" he asked frightened.

"She's just over there," Harry nodded to where Hermione could be seen in the car headlights, "Will I do? I'm a wizard."

"The witch lady had a magic wand." said the boy, doubtfully.

"I've got one, too." said Harry pulling out his own. He noticed that Hermione hadn't had a chance to clean to clean the child up, nor dress him properly, and the evening was just a little too chilly for him to be wandering around in his underwear, even with the blanket, "I'd like to tidy you up a bit. Can I?"

The child bit his lip and nodded. Harry slowly lifted his wand. In the car seat, there was a limit to how much he could cringe, but the child did anyway. Harry cast a gentle Scourgify, knowing that Hermione would have taken photos of the boy's state before she'd brought him out to the car. Hermione never deviated from procedure.

"Ooooh!" the child cried, astonished, "You are a wizard!"

Harry smiled broadly, "Uh-huh. Now, what's your favorite color?"

"Green."

Harry pulled out a handkerchief and transfigured it into warm green pajamas, "D'you like these?"

The boy nodded uncertainly. Harry was holding them one minute and then they were on the boy's body the next.

"Oh!" the boy stared at Harry. "I..." he couldn't seem to go any farther, and started to cry, quietly.

"All right, it's all right," Harry soothed, remembering from his own childhood that he only ever cried when he felt safe enough. He reached into his pocket and transfigured a bit of fluff into a small teddy that he handed the child. smiling a little as the boy latched onto the stuffed animal and buried his head in it "You've had a long night."

Makes two of us, he thought ruefully. He put his head back on the back of the seat. He and the child might've fallen asleep at the same instant.

He dimly heard Dudley and Hermione climb into the car, "That's cute." observed Dudley, sounding amused.

Hermione laughed a little.

"Y'know," Harry heard Dudley say a while later, "I don't understand why Harry never turned my dad into a cockroach. It would have suited him."

"I assume its because Harry's magic never felt sufficiently threatened." replied Hermione, "And before one is trained, it's strictly instinct. And sometimes, depression or fear can make the magic get bottled up. Wizards are still human, we seldom defend ourselves against our caregivers magically. You'll notice little Tim didn't turn his mother into a bug, just her boyfriend."

"Yeah. I just...has Harry told you about our childhood?"

"Some. I mean I know he didn't get along with his family and we used to send him food every summer holiday, because..." she trailed off. By her tone of voice, Harry could imagine her face, pink cheeked and biting her lip as she always did when she'd said more than she intended.

"Because Mum wouldn't feed him properly."

"Well, yes."

"Took me years to get over my compulsive eating." Dudley said slowly, "My therapist theorized it was because I was trying to repress all the guilt I was feeling over Harry. Even when I was little, I knew somehow it wasn't right...But you know how kids are. Mum and Dad said he was the devil incarnate and spoiled me rotten. But they never wanted to know me. Y'know? All they ever wanted was their perfect little Diddykins who was a carbon copy of Dad.

Harry had never really considered before how their childhood would have looked to Dudley.

Harry must have drifted back to sleep, because the next thing he knew, Hermione was calling his name.

"Hmm?" he said.

"I said, we're there. Wake up, so you can give Dudley directions to Grimmauld place." she was unstrapping the child and picking him up, "Thanks for putting him in something warmer. You didn't clean his underclothes, did you?"

"I know how to collect evidence, Hermione." Harry said opening his eyes. "I didn't clean him up that thoroughly. Just enough to make him more comfortable."

"Of course. Now, Ron and I will meet you and Ginny and Dudley and his family at the Leaky Cauldron on Saturday. I'll owl Ginny about it in the morning. Or rather later in the morning." She hefted the boy onto her hip and headed down the narrow, badly lit street that held the entrance to St. Mungo's.

Harry opened his door and slid into the passenger seat that Dudley had just vacated.

"So, she informs me that she and I are related by marriage?" asked Dudley.

Harry nodded, smiling.

"You don't mind meeting up on Saturday?" Dudley said tentatively.

"No, I'd like that. To be honest, tonight turned out really different to what I thought. I'm glad to see you again." Harry didn't know if that had come out right, as tired as he was. Something occurred to him, "What's the book you and Phillip were talking about?"

"Oh. That." DUdley smiled a little sheepishly, "It's the one I wrote. I thought you might see it. There's a copy in my briefcase there."

Harry picked the case up off the floor, snapped it open. A large hardcover was in it. Harry lit his wand so he could better read it.

Fortunate Son

Growing Up In The Shadow of Abuse

By D. Dursley

"I used Dursley because I wanted you to see it." said Dudley quietly, "I tried to find you while I was writing it, but it just never worked out. Your friend Hermione's good. I knew there had to be a witch on some of those cases, but I was never sure enough to actually confront her."

Harry turned to the back cover to read the blurb,

It is not unusual for one child in a family to be singled out for abuse and neglect. Often the other children in the household even participate in the abuse of the scapegoat. Dudley Dursley examines the appalling damage that this does to every child within the family system.

"Look on the dedication page."

To Harry

I'd like to try again to be a family.

Call me.

Harry didn't know what to say. He swallowed hard. They drove in silence with Harry only speaking to say "Turn right here." or "Next left." and, finally, "Stop here."

Dudley turned to Harry, "See you Saturday?" he asked hopefully.

"Count on it." smiled Harry, "Can I keep this?" he held up the book.

"Yeah." Dudley beamed.

Harry opened the door to number twelve as Dudley drove away. A light down in the kitchen proved that Ginny was still awake.

"Hi," Harry said, surprised, "You didn't need to wait up."

Ginny was sitting in her dressing gown, reading a stack of forms. She smiled at him, "Have a good night?"

"Yeah." said Harry after a moment of consideration, "I really did. A bit strange, but..." he smiled at her lopsidedly.

"Hermione just sent an owl with these." she indicated the paperwork, "She wanted to know if we still wanted to apply for a foster care licence. Apparently, she has a little boy in need of an emergency placement. She said you knew something about it. She didn't give me a lot of detail. Anyway, it's likely to become permanent, according to the evidence the healers have found."

Harry's heart lifted at the idea of adding one more to his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my fanfiction, you should know that I am currently crowdfunding the publication of an original novel. Check out: http://igg.me/at/paganaidd/x/13102079


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